


Stardust

by ImBackBoi



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia fic, BAMF Cody, BAMF Feemor, Cody makes some friends, Feemor's going to steal your clone, Gen, Mostly Cody POV, Part Fluff, Part slice of life, Watch out Obi-wan, and is awkwardly adorable, and never give him back, but staring Cody, can you blame him?, part run for your life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-28 15:34:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30141714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImBackBoi/pseuds/ImBackBoi
Summary: CC has amnesia. The only clue to who he used to be is the tattoo repeated on his wrists and ankles. CC-2224.However, the longer CC stays with Master Feemor and the crew of the Pearl, the less he cares.He'll remember eventually anyways.Probably....Or: Feemor finds a wayward clone, decides to keep him, and attempts to spoil him rotten.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & Feemor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do I know how many unfinished stories I have? Yes.   
> The good news? This one is already FiNiShEd! :)   
> Polish as we publish.  
> I stress write.   
> ...  
> For your enjoyment: the requisite amnesia fic, staring everyone's favorite Marshall Commander (ok, so he's my favorite). And Feemor! Because why not, and I wanted a Feemor who isn't a complete wreck and totally bitter/hating life, Jinn, and Obi-wan.

  
Being a refugee sucks, CC thought.   
  
“Listen,” the captain was saying. He was an antsy human with shady eyes CC didn’t like the look of, “I can take some, but I can’t take everybody. There’s gunna be another ship soon enough, anyways! Relief aid and all that. We have to take off right quick so I can meet my deadline!”  
  
“Are we ever going to be able to get out of here?” a heavily pregnant twi’lek was saying to another woman, rubbing her belly. The sentient in charge continued to try and wheedle the captain into taking more and more people while the Captain vehemently said was already at capacity and that he needed to leave now.  
  
“Is that our ship?” a kid clinging to CC’s hand asked, standing on tip to and craning his head back to get a look. CC nodded.   
  
“Looks like.”  
  
“Cool. I’ve never been on a ship before.”  
  
“I have,” said a girl with a snooty voice latched onto one of his legs. “Plenty of times.”  
  
“No one cares what you think,” the boy snapped.  
  
These kids just got out of the middle of a war, CC shook his head. From how they’re acting, you’d think it never happened for them. Pausing, he glanced down at the kids and almost laughed. For himself, it really was like it had never happened. He’d been caught in an explosion and had been underground for almost a week before he’d been dug out.  
  
The kicker?   
  
CC couldn’t remember a damn thing. He’d plucked his name from the tattoo on his wrist.   
  
“Probably just bruising in the brain,” a local medic who’d survived the invasion had told him, “You’ll probably remember soon enough. Yay for retrograde amnesia. Makes you feel like a star in your own holo-drama.”  
  
CC hadn’t understood that, but okay.   
  
Not that it really mattered at the moment, he just wanted to get the kids on the ship and away to somewhere safe. Was that really to much to ask?  
  
“Alright! Let’s go!” the captain shouted, “Single file all orderly ‘n shavit, okay?”  
  
“CC!” a little hand grabbed the back of his shirt, “CC! Can I ride on your back?”  
  
“Sure,” CC knelt and the kid clambered up on his back. He grunted when a bony knee got him in the kidney. It was that bothan kid... Gred something. Gred’s hair tickled the back of CC’s neck, while his toes found leverage in his belt. When he was situated, CC stood.  
  
“I wanna be tall someday,” Gred muttered.  
  
“That’s not fair,” the girl complained and the other boy shot back, “Tough.”  
  
They eventually got to the head of the line. The 1st mate took their names and the captain nodded to CC before looking speculatively at the kids clinging to him. CC tensed. His head hurt.  
  
“Welcome aboard.”   
  
...  
  
CC was dozing when the ship abruptly dropped out of hyperspace. He jerked awake, his heart pounding.   
  
“Whats going on?”   
  
“Who knows?” a man near him muttered. “That captains a shady fellow. I wouldn’t be surprised if he stopped to demand payment and then kicked everyone out the airlock.”  
  
“You’re really depressing, you know that, right?” a woman across from them said.   
  
“I don’t care,” the pregnant twi’lek listlessly and near tears, “I just want to go home.” The first woman took the twi’leks hand, squeezed it, and began murmuring words of assurance. CC ignored them and focused on the crowd around him.   
  
It was pretty packed. There were people in seats and camped out on the floor. Most of them looked beat, some of them scared, and a few resolute. He noted the ones most likely to fight if there was trouble. Double checked the exits (two). Wondered if there was a way to unbolt the seats and immediately dismissed that as unrealistic. They would be fine for cover as they were.   
  
“What are you thinking about, CC?” the man asked. “You’re scowling pretty hard there, brother.”  
  
The captains shady behavior and speculative face floated across his vision.   
  
“I’m thinking maybe the women and children should probably batten down,” he muttered.   
  
“We weren’t yanked out of hyperspace,” the man said slowly. “We stopped for a reason. He should have made an announcement by now.”  
  
CC shared a look with the man. He was smaller than CC, but was thick and had a hard face. Two scarlet markings, starting at his hairline, ran from directly over his eyes and vertically down his face and ending at his jaw. His name was Jax.   
  
“Are you sure?” the woman whispered, eyes wide. The twi’lek looked wearily between them both.   
  
“It never hurts to be cautious,” Jax shrugged. “Here, switch with us.”  
  
While Jax stood, CC looked around, spotted the kids that had boarded with him and whistled sharply. They all looked up and he waved them over.   
  
“You look mad, CC,” said the girl as she, Gred and the boy and a straggler settled on the floor between the seats and leaned against the wall. “It makes your scar look scary.”  
  
“Shut up, Bina. You are so rude.”  
  
“Shut up, Mak,” the girl snapped, “you’re the one who’s rude.”   
  
“This is my brother, CC.” Gred excitedly pointed out, “I found him! His name is Rom.”  
  
“That’s nice,” CC said as Jax snickered. The men had exchanged seats with the women and now sat at the end of their little booth. Jax seemed to perk up at the idea of a... confrontation.  
  
The ship shuddered violently. There was a distant boom. CC and Jax exchanged grim looks.   
  
...  
  
Smoking bodies littered the floor. Pained whimpers and quiet sobbing seemed to be the soundtrack to CC’s life lately.  
  
The slaver shoved the blaster into his forehead and he thought for sure he was about to die. His wrists were pinned behind his back and there were several knees digging in to him.   
  
"Listen," the fat sullustan said, "You put up a good fight, I can respect that. But you're too much of a liability to keep alive so you're going to have to die like the rest. I don't deal in gladiators."  
  
On the other side of the room, the kids began to sob. Kids he'd sworn to protect when no one else could. He couldn't give up.   
  
“Besides, it’s probably best for you lot to just die anyways,” the slaver shrugged, “No body wants to take on any more refugees anyways.”  
  
CC spat and struggled. It didn't help that he'd gone into the fight already wounded, but he'd had to try. The slaver sighed.   
  
"It's just business. Nothing personal."  
  
"I'd say murder was always personal," a new voice interupted. Male. Older. Amused, yet steely, "An intimate affair, one might even say."  
  
There was the _snap-hiss_ and a _thrum_ as a lightsaber ignited. A lightning blade erupted through the front of the sullustans chest. The slaver stared down at the blade in surprise and then went flying forwards, knocking all the sentients off CC’s back. Coughing, he heaved himself to his feet, unwilling to stay down while the threat remained.  
  
A big hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up into the face of a blond haired behemoth of a human in something like Jedi robes.   
  
"You did great, son," the jedi smiled at him, pushing him towards the kids, "Let me take out the trash for you. Quickly now."  
  
He stumbled out of the jedi's way and headed towards the kids huddled in the corner. Behind him, he heard blaster fire and the lightsaber hum as it arced through the air. It sounded pleased.  
  
The kids reached for and dragged him down to their makeshift shelter.   
  
"Are you okay, CC?"   
  
"Did they hurt you?"  
  
"Who's that man?"  
  
"Is that a jedi?"  
  
"Is he going to kill them all?"  
  
CC slumped against the wall and watched the jedi decapitate the last slaver standing.   
  
"Looks like it," CC answered. As if hearing him, the jedi looked their way with a smile.   
  
"You lot stay here," he waved his hand and several blasters landed gently at CC's feet. "I'm locking the door behind me. Kill anything that's not me or my padawan. Password is Slavers Suck."  
  
CC snorted. It was funny. Sue him.  
  
"Are you a Jedi?" Mak blurted out. CC put a hand on the little boys head.  
  
"Yes," the Jedi answered, messing with the door panel.  
  
"Where's your army?"  
  
The jedi looked their way. His gaze flicked to CC briefly then back to the kids.   
  
"I'm not part of the GAR," the Jedi smiled at the boy, eyes crinkling, "If I was, I couldn't be here to help you. You got this, son?" he addressed the last part to CC.  
  
"Yessir."  
  
"Lovely."   
  
And he was gone.   
  
They waited tensely. Distantly, they heard blaster fire and screaming and CC thought, Good. Give the bastards what they deserve.  
  
His vision wavered and the world tilted. Force his head hurt.   
  
That's what you get for messing with refugees.   
...  
  
He opened his eyes and lashed out.   
  
"Kriff," the woman's head snapped back, blood spurting, “you bastard!"  
  
Hands began patting him rapidly, incoherent voices assaulted him. Snarling, he lunged upwards -  
  
CC opened his eyes. Blinked a few times and wondered at how good he felt. Turning his head, he noted the IV bag hanging from a hook above his head. A gentle noise caught his attention and CC looked the other way. Piled on the floor with a mountain of pillows and blankets, were the kids.   
  
He smiled. Good. They were safe. He wondered where the jedi had gone to.   
  
The door slid open with a _fshh_ and, speak of the devil, the jedi stepped into the room.  
  
"I'm glad you're okay," the man murmured quietly, crouching by CC's bedside. CC was glad. It meant he cared about not waking the kids up. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Like I got the good stuff," CC answered. "What happened?"  
  
The jedi shrugged.   
  
"We eliminated the threat," the jedi kept his voice low and quiet. "There are other survivors, but they're all bunked up elsewhere. We had to give you a more private room for obvious reasons." His gaze flicked over to the dogpiled kids approvingly, "They wouldn't leave you. You've made quite the impression."  
  
"Thanks. I think."  
  
"You can call me Feemor. What's your name?"  
  
"CC," his eyes drooped and burned. He blinked hazily.   
  
"It's very nice to meet you, CC," Feemor's kind voice seemed to come from far away as sleep overtook him. 


	2. Chapter 2

Feemor was very upfront with them.   
  
If they had a place to go, the Pearl was ready to take them home or help them find different arrangements, and if they had no home, they were more than willing to help them find a new one.   
  
Several people were dropped off right away in nearby systems. Those who remained the longest were the ones who’d sat next to him - the pregnant twi’lek, Jax, and the kids.   
  
The human woman had died shielding her pregnant friend.   
  
CC hadn’t even caught her name.   
  
...  
  
  
It bothered CC a little that he had no idea if he had a home or if he was alone in the world.   
  
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Jax said over lunch in the cargo hold, “You’ll remember eventually. True amnesia is more common as a plot device in bad daytime drama’s.”  
  
“Day time drama?”  
  
Which led to his introduction to bad Daytime Holo-Drama’s.   
  
“This is terrible,” CC watched the dramatic suspense that was daytime holo’s. “It’s so bad. It’s like wathcing a speeder wreck that never gets better.”  
  
“It could be worse,” Dara, the gaunt yevethan mechanic and engineer for the Pearl, had joined them, choosing to sit near Rin’lii (who loved daytime holo’s).   
  
“This is the best one,” Rin’lii sighed happily, rubbing her belly. “J’Ack has been both a good guy and a bad guy over the years. This version is definitely nasty. Last episode he double-crossed his own son, JoJo, and took up with town vixen, Paiva. In the next episode, his ex-wife comes back from the dead and helps him remember who he is.”  
  
“Uh,” Dara shifted in his seat, “Right.”  
  
Jax glanced up at CC and the two shared a smirk.   
  
...  
  
All the kids slept in Cody’s room. Every night like clockwork they would drift in one by one with their pillows and blankets and curl up in his bed and use him as a pillow. The first night it was a surprise and he tried to get them to go back to their own beds.   
  
They just ended up on the floor instead.   
  
On the second night, he just sighed and said, “Try not to kick me in your sleep. You fight and you’re out. Got it?”  
  
“Yessir!”  
  
Every morning after that he has to take a sonic because he wakes up drenched in sweat from the heat of too many small bodies.   
  
Feemor thinks it’s hilarious.  
  
“You’ve made quite the impression,” the Jedi Master repeated himself, chuckling, “Until they get home, they feel safe with you. I wouldn’t worry about it.”   
  
...  
  
CC thinks the padawan doesn’t like him much.  
  
...  
  
They drop off Bina and Mak first. Their parents worked together and their families were from the same colony. It’s a teary goodbye and the pair hold hands as Feemor escorts them down the ramp to help them find their families.   
  
CC resolutely ignores his misty eyes and the urge to cry.   
  
...  
  
They hopped on the Hydian way and headed towards Correllia. A private investigator by trade, Jax often worked with CorSec. He didn’t say what his business was way out in the outer rim, and they didn’t ask.   
  
“You ever work with an Officer Horn?” Feemor asked over dinner once. Rin’lii had cooked up something amazing.   
  
Jax raised his brows, “Yeah, I know that guy. A bit of a hard-ass, but a good man.”  
  
“Did his wife ever have that baby,” the padawan asked suddenly. It was the most she’d talked since CC had been on board. “Boy or girl?”  
  
Jax chewed his food thoughtfully and swallowed.   
  
“Boy. Names Corran.”  
  
The padawan shot a gleeful look towards her Master.   
  
“It’s rude to gloat, Padawan-mine,” Feemor pulled out his wallet and handed over some credits, “No one likes a gloater.”  
  
“I would never, Master. Thank you, Master. Good doing business with you, Master,” the Padawan snickered and the credits vanished. “Five credits says the kid is force-sensitive.”  
  
“No bet.”  
  
Rin’lii snagged the padawan’s attention to ask if she had much experience with babies. CC tuned them and turned to Feemor, “You really get around.”  
  
“We go where the force takes us,” the Master replied. “It was the will of the force to make me a sentinel in the outer-rim. But that didn’t mean we had to stay in one spot.”  
  
“I thought all the Jedi were Generals now,” one of the Bothan boys piped up. The other nodded vigorously.   
  
“Many of them, yes,” Feemor agreed, “But not us.”  
  
“So, what. They called you up and asked, ‘hey, wanna come home and lead an army?’ and you said ‘No dice!’ then kriffed off to kill slavers?” Jax grinned, winking at the boys.  
  
CC snorted.   
  
“You are so close to the truth,” The padawan laughed, “The only difference is that we never answered the summons and they never came looking for us.”  
  
“Can’t you get censured or put on probation for disobeying the council?” CC asked with a frown. Master Feemor looked at him in surprise.   
  
“What council?” one of the kids asked.   
  
“They’re in charge of the whole Jedi order,” CC answered.   
  
“Uh oh,” the padawan mumbled. CC shot her a concerned look.   
  
“The council,” Feemor declared, pointing a fork at CC, “is a stagnant old frog caught 800 years in the past who has nothing better to do than meddle and send his jedi off to die with their slaves in battle.”  
  
“Isn’t the council more than one person?”  
  
“Yes! But where Yoda goes follow others will.” Feemor stabbed at his curry tubers viciously, “Plus, they’re all so wound up with the senate that they have trouble getting literally anything else done. And if they wanted to win this stupid, pointless war, they never should have accepted an army that was ordered by a renegade. Goods are purchased, people are not. This war was lost the second they became slave owners. Moral high ground my ass.”   
  
CC stared, flabbergasted. An army of _slaves_?  
  
Feemor stood suddenly, “Thank you, Rin’lii, for the delicious meal, but now I must meditate.”  
  
They were quiet as Feemor stalked off to his room. The boys toyed with their food and Rin’lii petted their heads comfortingly. Jax looked thoughtful. CC couldn’t get over the ‘goods are purchased, people are not.’  
  
“What did he mean by that?” Rin’lii asked softly. “The boys in white can’t really be slaves, can they?”  
  
“The Senate doesn’t see them as slaves,” the Padawan replied. “However, it’s the senate who truly owns them. They don't have republic ident or citizenship. They were purchased, not enlisted. None of them had a choice and I doubt they ever will if the Senate keeps going to way they are.”  
  
“It’s sickening!” Rin’lii gasped, hand over her mouth, “Do they even get paid?”  
  
“Not that I know of.”   
  
Jax looked between them all and said nothing.   
  
“I do know that the Jedi were not meant to be General’s or Commanders,” the Padawan went on, “We’re not trained for it. We’re meant to be diplomats. Negotiators. Medics. Healers. Explorers. Yes, general tactics and strategies are taught... but warfare? Never. We only take up our lightsabers as a last resort or in defense of others. I think the council wanted to take command of the clones to protect them, but in doing so they played right into the Senate’s hands - or someone’s hands at least. Now we, they, are under the republics thumb even more. Now, they must do what the senate says and go where the senate says.”  
  
“Couldn’t they just say kriff the Senate?” Jax asked.   
  
“Who do you think funds them?” the padawan spread her hands wide. “And they don’t accept monetary gifts, which is incredibly stupid, especially if it’s from a government trying to thank you for solving crisis or something. I mean. C’mon.”  
  
CC’s head hurt.  
  
“And not every jedi has taken command,” she went on. “There are several thousand of us, so that’d be a bit much. Many are old, some are too young. Many go out on relief and aid missions, but then again, those come from the senate as well. My guess is that the planets with the loudest Senators get the most aid. So, even normal knights are still spread thin.”  
  
Jax nodded.   
  
“Then we also have the corps, who aren’t trained the same way as Knights are. Farmers, medics, teachers, healers. Poorly equipped and underfunded because their budget comes from the temple on Coruscant, and their budget is already tight because of the Senate. I think it’s a conspiracy.”  
  
“How do you know all this if you’ve spent the last ten years out here?” Rin’lii asked, somewhat overwhelmed.  
  
“We researched it,” shrugged the padawan. “Plus, my master spent time with my great-grandmaster who liked to spend a lot of time in the archives because he was friends with head librarian, so she’s very fond of Master Fee.”  
  
“And by extension, you.”  
  
The padawan smiled and took a bite of her curry.   
  
CC had a migrane.  
  
  
  
When they landed on Correllia, Jax took CC aside and handed him a sheet of flimsy.  
  
“This is my contact information,” he said firmly, “If you ever find yourself in a bind or need help or just want to bullshit, call me.”  
  
CC nodded and smoothed the flimsy out before folding it up and sticking it in his pocket.  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Jax smacked CC’s shoulder, the thick scarlet markings running down his face made his grin more fearsome than it was. “I like you, and my gut says that you’re a good man.   
Never forget that, brother. With out you, I’d be dead right now.”  
  
CC held out a hand and they clasped fore-arms.   
  
“You’re a good man, too. Don’t do anything stupid.”  
  
Jax grinned wickedly, “Never.”  
  
...  
  
They refueled and re-supplied and got back into space. The Correllian Run was a straight shot to Ryloth.   
  
Rin’lii went into labor halfway there.

“You’ll want to make sure that you cut everything into bite sized pieces,” the twi’lek instructed matter-of-factly. She was teaching CC how to make curry. “Especially when there are children involved. Remember, it is always better to simply make the pieces smaller in the first place. Cooking does shrink things, but sometimes not by much and there are also things that do not shrink. And if there are women in the party you are cooking for, remember that is unseemly for her to be shoving big chunks of food in her mouth that she can barely chew.”  
  
CC nodded and kept on dicing the meat.  
  
“Is this good?”  
  
“Yes, that’s very nice. Oh-” Rin’lii grunted and leaned against the counter, hand on her belly. Startled, CC looked up - she was pale as a leaf.  
  
“Oh no,” she whispered. CC dropped the knife and caught her as she sunk to the ground. Her belly rippled from the sides in.   
  
“What’s wrong? What happened?” he panicked, “Are you having the baby?”  
  
Rin’lii giggled hysterically.   
  
“Couch.”  
  
CC picked her up with ease and brought her to the sitting room. Feemor and Dara looked up from their game. Dara glared darkly at him.   
  
“I didn’t do anything!” CC snapped, “She collapsed.”  
  
“I’ll be okay,” the twi’lek breathed quietly as he set her on the couch, “It’s receding.” Feemor came over and helped prop her up. Dara vanished and returned just as quickly with   
some pillows.  
  
“Go get Bibi Yana,” Feemor told CC. “She’s in her room.”  
  
CC nodded jerkily and dashed off to the berths. He stopped at the one he was pretty sure was the padawan’s and pounded on it. The door slid open.   
  
“Feemor says-” his jaw dropped as he realized the padawan was in the middle of sliding a sleeveless tunic dress on over a navy body suit, “I’m sorry!”  
  
The padawan rolled her eyes and finished tugging her dress down, “Feemor says come quickly, Rin’lii is having the baby?”  
  
“I-uh,” CC blanked as she shook out her hair and began to braid it. He stared, fascinated, “He just said to get you, actually.”  
  
“I told him we should have dropped her off first,” she muttered twisting the braid and clipping it to the back of her head. “Alright, I’ll be there in a minute. She’s not going to   
have the baby right this second. Birth doesn’t work that way.”  
  
“Uh. Right.”  
  
“Are you okay?” He blinked and realized she was looking at him in concern, bodice in place and fully dressed. Kicked into gear again, CC was horrified he’d be staring at her the entire time she finished getting ready.   
  
Stuttering violently through an apology, CC stumbled back and fled as the padawan laughed.   
  
(several hours later)  
  
“You’re doing great, Rin’lii,” Bibi Yana soothed as the twi’lek growled through another contraction. “The contractions are so close now, you’re probably going to start transitioning soon. It’s going to hurt.”  
  
“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Rin’lii gasped, echoing CC’s thoughts. It was his turn as hand holder.   
  
“I can ease the pain some, if you want,” Bibi Yana admitted, “But I can’t take it all away. And I wouldn’t even if I could. With out that pain, your brain and body don’t mesh and it makes pushing difficult.”  
  
CC had no idea what she was talking about and he was kind of terrified about it, too.  
  
“You know,” Dara called from the other side of the room, “Yevethan women give birth to egg casks that you have to soak in blood to feed and ensure proper growth.”  
CC stared, bug eyed. Rin’lii moaned.  
  
“Shut up, Dara,” said Bibi Yana.   
  
(Not long after)  
  
Rin’lii had a strangle hold on CC’s hand so strong he thought she might break it.   
  
“If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him for doing this to me,” she panted angrily, as they walked slowly around the ship on Bibi Yana’s recommendation, “How dare you die and leave me alone, you rotten bastard.” The twi’lek devolved into muttering Ryl under her breath.   
  
(An hour after that)  
  
“Is this normal?” CC whispered to Bibi Yana as Rin’lii cried and clung to Dara who rubbed her back reassuringly.   
  
“It is.” Bibi Yana nodded, “Twi’leks usually go fast. This is nothing terribly out of the ordinary, she’s just a little quicker than most.”  
  
“Feemor doesn’t help?”   
  
The padawan scoffed, “Oh no. He’s been banned from births forever. Tends to panic. Besides, someone needs to keep the midgets entertained.”  
  
CC had completely forgotten about the bothan kids.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Bibi Yana patted his shoulder, “You’re doing fine. Dara almost shanked someone the first time he helped, and by someone I mean me.”  
  
(An hour after that)  
  
Rin’lii staggered and collapsed against CC. The padawan was at her side in an instant, running her hands over belly and frowning. She pursed her lips and looked up at CC.  
  
“Keep her standing.”  
  
“Okay-”  
  
“What’s- wrong -with -me?” Rin’lii sobbed into CC shirt.  
  
“Shh... It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with you.” Bibi Yana knelt, her eyes half-lidded as she felt along Rin’lii’s lower abdomen. “There’s nothing to panic about. She’s got herself all twisted up and scared. Easy, easy, there’s a good girl. Nothing to panic about, everyone is very eager to meet you,” CC got the feeling the padawan wasn’t talking to   
Rin’lii anymore, “That’s right... Nice and easy...”  
  
Under the padawan’s hands, Rin’lii’s stomach warped and buldged in ways that horrified CC. It was only the twi’leks death grip on his arms and the nails digging into his biceps (nails that were probably drawing blood) that kept him present.  
  
There was a huge splash at their feet.   
  
“Good girl, good girl,” the padawan murmured before turning her head, “Dara, Blanket! Rin’lii you want to lay down?”  
  
Rin’lii nodded. CC and Bibi Yana helped her lay down on the blanket Dara brought over. Her stomach rippled and her grip on CC’s hand was vice-like.   
  
“You need to breath,” he heard Dara say distantly, “In and out. No one wants you to pass out.”  
  
“Doing great,” Bibi Yana flipped up the twi’leks dress and CC’s face burned. “Next contraction you push.”  
  
Five minutes later, there was a little green twi’lek baby on the ship. Fascinated, CC held the baby while Bibi Yana squeegeed its nose and mouth. It was soft, wet and wrinkly and its head was vaguely cone shaped. The umbilical cord was still attached.   
  
“Shouldn’t you cut that?” he asked.  
  
“Not yet.” The padawan took the baby and nestled it on its mothers chest, “She still hasn’t passed the placenta... Some cut it right away. I like to wait and let all the blood drain back into the baby. Less of a mess.”  
  
Nodding, CC decided that maybe he shouldn’t have asked. Dara drapped a throw over Rin’lii’s torso and the baby where they were propped up on the Yevethan. The baby was quickly replaced with a bucket.   
  
“You’ve got a cool head,” Bibi Yana complimented him as she started cleaning up Rin’lii (and CC was very studiously not looking in that direction. . There was a lot of blood.   
  
“Thanks for your help. Oh, look the placenta.”  
  
CC blanched and stared at the ceiling.   
  
...

They were on Ryloth.   
  
Rin’lii, holding her newborn baby, stopped by CC’s side and looked up at him. She truly was a beautiful woman and motherhood made her glow. Cody understood   
Dara’s crush.   
  
“I cannot thank you enough for everything you have done for us,” she said softly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “There is no way I can ever repay you.”  
  
“You could live a good life,” CC offered, “And maybe drop Dara a line to let him know you’re okay.”  
  
Rin’lii blushed, her eyes glancing shyly back towards the ships innards. CC graciously spared her the ribbing.   
  
“Have you decided on a name yet?” he asked, hitting the release to the ramp. The pneumatics hissed as it lowered.  
  
“Yes,” Rin’lii nuzzled her baby. “I’ve decided to call her S’Seela.”  
  
CC’s ears burned.   
  
“Goodbye, CC,” she kissed his cheek, “I will never forget you.”  
  
Rin’lii turned and walked down the ramp and into the waiting arms of her family. A few moments later Bibi Yana appeared, wriggled her eyebrows at him, and followed the twi’lek down at a sedate pace. CC leaned against the edge of the open portal and watched the reunion.  
  
(Did he have a family waiting to greet him like that?)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A deal happens.
> 
> Hazing.
> 
> Cody goes shopping.
> 
> A dogfight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm enjoying this. Lol Cody being confused and eager is fun for me to write.

  
“So. CC,” Feemor said over breakfast the next day, “I have a proposition for you.”  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“Since you currently have no place to stay and no place to go - no, wait, hear me out,” Feemor waved a fork at him when CC opened his mouth, “It’s not a bad thing and it’s obviously not your fault, so shush. I want you to stay with us on the Pearl. As part of the crew.”  
  
“I- Sir?”  
  
“Listen. You’ve got a cool head on those shoulders of yours. You handled yourself well on that refugee ship and are probably the only reason why anybody survived.”   
  
CC wanted to disagree, but kept his mouth shut.  
  
“Except for a little panic in the beginning, you did a great job with Rin’lii and the whole labor and delivery thing. Padawan was pretty impressed with you.” 

CC grimaced. Speaking of which,  
  
“I don’t think she likes me much,” CC admitted.   
  
“You think that?” Feemor blinked, surprised. Then he laughed, “I promise you son, if she didn’t like you, you’d know it. Not just think it.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Anyways. Deal is, stick with us until you get your memories back and then we’ll drop you off where ever you need to be.” The blond jedi toyed with his eggs, “We’ll pay you. Foods on us. Get you kitted out on our next stop. If you haven’t noticed, sometimes we happen to come upon trouble.”  
  
It was a good deal. A great deal. What was the catch? Was there a catch? It all seemed too much.   
  
“I don’t really understand, sir.” CC shifted uncomfortably, “You know nothing about me. I know nothing about me. I could be anyone. A killer even.”  
  
“I know you’re good people,” Feemor held his gaze, “I know that kids love you. I like you. Bibi tolerates you and Dara likes you, too. That my friend, is pretty damn hard to accomplish. Hell, he still threatens to rip my throat out every few days.”  
  
CC took a bite of his eggs and chewed thoughtfully. Honestly, he really didn’t see any other option. No good options anyways, he reminded himself, because there were always other options. Such as getting off at the next stop with just the clothes on his back and bumming his way through the galaxy until he remembered something. If he remembered something.   
  
That didn’t sound very appealing. At least with Feemor, he’d be useful.   
  
“Just until I remember,” CC said, “Then we renegotiate.”  
  
“Done!” Feemor grinned and looked far too pleased with himself.   
  
The Bothan boys, who had been sitting quietly, eating their eggs, and watching them intently like the two men had been their own personal entertainment, cheered loudly.   
  
...  
  
The Pearl was a Mon Calamari MC-24 light shuttle that Dara lovingly (and angrily) kept in the best condition possible. It had a modified hyperdrive, smuggling compartments, stealth systems, sensor scramblers, and a superior reinforced hull.  
  
For ramming things. 

Because why not, apparently.  
  
“Sometimes you just have to charge the line gung ho,” Feemor explained cheerfully.   
  
Technically, the ship only needed a crew of 2 (like many light shuttles). It could also hold up to six passengers.  
  
“Way more if we clear out the hold,” Bibi Yana told him absently as she passed by where Feemor was telling him about the ship. “It’s how we handled the refugees from your flight.”  
  
It also had an upgraded laser defense system, turrets, and small scale ion cannons.  
  
“I keep telling him we should get torpedo's,” Dara interrupted, “But he thinks that’d be too obvious. Torpedo’s would be great.”  
  
“Torpedo’s would be too obvious. And then we’d just have to buy more once we used them. At least the lasers recharge.”  
  
CC gets the feeling this is an old argument.   
  
...  
  
CC gasped, _Where am I? Why is it so hot? So dark! NO! I don’t want to be underground again-_  
  
Gentle snoring pierced through the hazy panic. A foot kicked him.   
  
He blinked.   
  
Rom grumbled and rolled over. It was Gred who snored.  
  
Oh.   
  
Right.   
  
CC took a full breath and exhaled slowly, willing his thudding heart to calm down. There was no way he was going back to sleep. Gently, he extracted himself from the bed, slipped on his socks and shirt (he started wearing pants to bed as soon as the kids starting crawling into it with him).   
  
(Probably part of the reason why he keeps waking up drenched in sweat.)  
  
(Probably)  
  
Slipping out of the room as quietly as he could, CC padded towards the living area and kitchen. He wasn’t even put out to notice the light was still on.   
  
Finding Feemor in rumpled pajamas and standing in the middle of the kitchen was kind of strange though. The Jedi master looked rough as he stared vacantly at the cabinets.  
  
“Tea or caf?” the big jedi mumbled, barely understandable, “Why even bother? Drink more water. No, padawan, the point is to stay awake. I’m tired. Tooka’s can’t roller-skate and I can’t find the pickled pollywogs. Don’t be chaotic.”  
  
CC opened his mouth and closed it a few times before he cleared throat and Feemor turned to him.   
  
“Want some tea, sir?” he asked. Jedi drank tea, right? It seemed like something a jedi would like. “I was going to make some for myself anyways.”  
  
Feemor stared unblinkingly.  
  
“Pollywogs, padawan.”  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“He’s dreaming,” a quiet, gravely voice startled CC. Dara stepped up beside him, ghoulish features not overly concerned. The yevethan was gray-green, gaunt and tall - almost as tall as Feemor himself. “It’s best to just let him be. He’ll go back to bed by himself.”  
  
“Does this happen often?”  
  
“Eh. Maybe once or twice a year.” Dara shrugged, “You get used to it.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Pollywogs, padawan. Pollywogs.”  
  
“Want a beer?”  
  
“Sure?”  
  
...  
  
“Are you okay?” Bibi Yana asked him after he’d rubbed his stomach for the fifth time since they’d left the ship that morning.   
  
CC grunted, “I’ll be alright.”  
  
“East something funny?” CC squinted at the surrounding crowd. He didn’t feel right. Almost naked in his plain clothes and vulnerable with his sour stomach.   
  
“Not sure,” he answered. “Had a late night. Didn’t sleep much. Maybe that’s just messing with me?”  
  
“Doubtful. You’d just feel more tired. Wait,” she stopped, catching his arm and forcing him to halt with her, “Up late with Master Fee? Dara didn’t offer you a beer did he?”  
  
“Um. Yeah?”  
  
Bibi Yana sighed heavily and started shoving him back the way they came. “C’mon. Back to the ship. That shit is not meant for human consumption. Go go go.”  
  
(CC commandeered the fresher for the rest of the day. It wasn’t pretty.)  
  
(He could also hear the Padawan yelling at Dara through the door on his behalf. That was nice.)  
  
...  
  
Apparently, ‘kitted out’ was Feemor-code for ‘Clothes shopping’.   
  
“This is too much, sir. I can’t accept this.”  
  
“Sure you can, son,” Feemor said cheerfully. The big jedi was sorting through clothes at a rapid rate, flinging things into CC’s arms to hold that he approved of. “Consider it a thank you. I haven’t seen Dara get put in his place like that since never.”  
  
“Glad to be of service then, sir.” CC adjusted his load, “But this is still a lot.”  
  
“Is it?”  
  
Feemor eyed the giant pile of clothes critically. Another few items and CC figured wouldn’t be able to see where he was going anymore.   
  
“I don’t think so. But we can put back whatever you don’t like after you try it on.”  
  
Wait, he had to try it all on?! CC’s spirits sunk.   
  
“Can we at least put back the shiny stuff, sir? I’m never going to wear it.”  
  
“Why? You never know when you might need a sweet space cape.”  
  
In the end, CC managed to whittle down the pile to over half by virtue of cut and color alone. Under wear shopping earlier had been embarrassing enough (“Boxers or briefs? I don’t judge.”) and he hadn’t known there were so many flavors of toothpaste, let alone shampoo and soaps and such... he really didn’t want to add to that embarrassment by buying up half the thrift shop.  
  
“Okay!” Feemor clapped his hands and rubbed them together vigorously, as they walked out of the thrift shop, “One more stop and then we can go back.”  
  
CC sighed.   
  
There next stop had been an armory and it wasn’t nearly as painful as clothes shopping had been.   
  
They left with CC happily sporting a set of blasters, boot shivs, k-bar, and a new blast-weave synth-leather long coat.   
  
...  
  
They were in space again.   
  
“How does this work?” CC asked. “You just keep traveling and hope you find someone to help? Do people reach out to you? The force sends you visions?”  
  
“All of the above.” Feemor answer. He’d cooked dinner (it was not nearly as delicious as Rin’lii’s curry, but it was okay) and had let CC ‘help’ (help meaning stir the noodles every now and then so they didn’t boil over). “Actively, we look into recent attacks and shady things that have gone down and investigate; anything from spice rings to pirates and slave trades. We get tips from security forces and such - like your friend Jax - and from contacts at trade ports.”

CC nodded. That made sense.   
  
“We still have contacts in the Jedi Temple, too.” Feemor smiled, “Not everyone thinks we’re dead.”  
  
That reminded him of something the padawan had said, “The librarian, right?”  
  
“Exactly. So, we do still take temple missions. Just the ones that fall under the radar.”   
  
“And my place, sir?” CC asked, “Where do I fit into this?”  
  
“Right now? You’re helping us escort two orphan kids to the Home.”  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“You’ll see.”  
  
...  
  
  
“Please get off.” CC grunted, arms trembling from the strain. Sweat dripped down his face. “You’re making this way harder than it should be.”  
  
“But you’re really strong!” Gred whined, “I want to see how many push-ups you can do with me on your back.”  
  
“Get off.”  
  
“Please? One more!”  
  
Mentally sighing, CC reluctantly dipped slowly down into another agonizing push up and hoped he didn’t fall flat on his face.   
  
...  
  
CC hit the mats with a fleshy smack and a groan. A few seconds later, there was an oof and Bibi Yana rolled into him.  
  
“Sorry,” she wheezed.  
  
“S’okay.”  
  
There was laughter and cheering from the other side of the hold.  
  
“Thank you! Thank you!” Feemor bowed to his pint-sized audience.   
  
“I hate him,” the padawan coughed and rolled off CC. “So much.”  
  
“We need a plan of attack,” CC propped himself up on his elbow to study the big jedi.   
  
“Any ideas?”  
  
“...Maybe.”  
  


It took two days of working together before they finally managed to win a round.   
  
“I knew you could do it! Good job!” Feemor laughed, even as his cheering section boo’d. “Now I should make you fight each other.”  
  
“No. Master. Why don’t you just fight Dara instead?”   
  
Dara cackled in the background and CC turned just in time to watch him extend a foot long dew claw in a slow and overly dramatic fashion.   
  
“I’m an old man, padawan. You do it.”  
  
“Ugh,” Bibi Yana flopped on the ground, “No.”  
  
“Cowards,” Dara called.  
  
A warm feeling diffused through him. CC smiled as he began stretching out his stiff and bruised muscles. Feemor was a beast and pulled his punches for no one.  
  
... 

“I’d really hoped we be able to drop the kids off before we ran into trouble,” Feemor complained. The Pearl had been yanked out of hyperspace unceremoniously. 

She banked hard and CC stumbled into his seat. Faintly, he felt the vibration through the ship as the laser cannons returned fire. 

“Five cred says its someone who remembers you fondly, Master,” Bibi Yana said over the headset communicators.

“Bet.”

CC rolled his eyes and finished strapping himself into the co-pilots chair and adjusted his seat. Excitement coursed through his veins. This was going to be his first engagement for the first time in just over two weeks - two weeks since that doomed flight on the refugee ship where he’d had nothing but civilians, kids, and one undercover investigator at his back. His foot jittered and his fingers tapped. What did Feemor want him to do? Lay down fire? How? With what?

(Wasn’t he a civilian though, too?) 

(Maybe?)

“Switching control over to co-pilot,” Feemor announced abruptly, letting go of the controls and swiveling in his chair to mess with whatever. 

“I have control,” CC responded automatically and sent the ship into a barrel roll, grin on his lips. 

Bibi Yana screeched angrily over the com and Feemor laughed. 

“That was some flying!” Feemor whooped. Reaching over, he pounded CC on the back, “Kriffing fantastic. That was amazing! Hells!”

Heart pounding, CC laughed breathlessly. Flying the Pearl had been exhilarating. The second he had his hands on the ‘wheel’ all nerves and jitters vanished. It was like he’d been made for it. 

“I had no idea she could move like that,” the jedi gushed, “You’re a natural.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You know, you don’t have to call me sir, CC. Feemor is fine. Hell, even just Fee. Or Master Fee like the kids do. I think you earned it with flying like that!”

“We’ll see, sir.”

Feemor just chuckled and unstrapped himself from the pilots seat and stood. 

“Just think about it.”

“Sir-? Uh, how did you know I’d be good at this? Flying?”

Feemor considered him, blue eyes gleamed spectrally in the glow of hyperspace (or was it the force?). 

“I didn’t.” He said bluntly, “You just looked so eager. I wanted to see what you could do when given the chance.” 

CC’s jaw dropped. Feemor laughed again, big and hearty, and ruffled CC’s hair. 

“And I have never been more glad to have done so,” he grinned at CC’s gob-smacked face, “I am so very proud of you.”  
  
To his horror, CC felt his face flame up and he quickly turned away. Feemor squeezed his shoulder and left, still chuckling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know when I start telling to much instead of showing. 
> 
> Reviews are appreciated? :)
> 
> I'm open to fluffy/bonding suggestions.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two drop offs,
> 
> Tears,
> 
> And a pick up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now realizing that I could have literally just dumped everything written into one long One Shot. Probably would have made more sense. But oh well.

  
Padawan had a mission.

_“You ready, Bibi?_ ” Feemor’s voice crackled over the speaker. 

“Yes, Master.”

_“Beginning descent.”_

CC was clipped to the wall with harness and straps. Not far ahead of him, Padawan Bibi Yana stood patiently. She was kitted out in a green tunic dress and long brown vest, over which was a leather cuirass, a tama, several belts and pouches. On her arms were full manica sleeves, matte in color, and thick scarf instead of a metal gorget. She seemed only vaguely jedi-ish. 

“Don’t you have a lightsaber?”

She hummed an affirmative. “It’s busted, though.”

“I thought a lightsaber was a jedi’s life?” 

“I know and I broke it!” Bibi Yana made a sour face, “Maybe it means I’m just not a very good jedi.”

CC didn’t have an answer for that. 

_“Open cargo bay doors.”_

“Opening cargo bay doors,” CC acknowledged, pulled the manual override lever down. The Bay doors slowly began to open. Wind and the roar of the thrusters assaulted them, tearing at their clothes and hair, rattling everything that wasn't battened down. 

“Hey!” CC shouted, holding onto the straps and bracing himself against the wall. Bibi Yana turned to him curiously, “Don’t die!”

Surprised, her lips parted briefly before she smiled, eyes crinkling. 

“Stay alive!” she shouted back, and promptly threw herself out the fully open bay doors. 

Somehow, he wasn’t surprised. 

“Alright,” Feemor said as CC strapped himself into the co-pilots chair. “Lets go drop the kids off at the Home. She should be done being chaotic to her little hearts content by the time we get back.”

“Yessir.”

...

The Home was actually an abandoned Jedi Temple. Master Feemor himself hadn’t found it, but had been sent the coordinates by Madame Nu (the librarian, apparently) because she wanted to know if there was actually one there or not. 

“And it was,” Feemor explained as they landed the Pearl on the landing pad. “The only ones living here were critters and lots of spiders. But the bones of it were still good. I asked Nu if I could keep it and she said yes as long as I sent her anything important that we found. We haven’t, yet. The former owners seemed to have cleared out pretty well.”

“And you’ve been remodeling it?” CC asked as a small crowd poured out of the temple. It seemed pretty populated. 

“Yup.” Feemor beamed, “We’ve got a nice little community going now. A lot of kids - orphans, obviously, we don’t steal children. Some refugees. Force sensitives, non force sensitives. Predators. Plant people. Runaway initiates from the corps-”

“You really shouldn’t be telling me this, sir.” CC cut him off, “You’ve known me for three weeks. I could be anybody.”

“I trust you. Memory loss doesn’t change who you are at the core, CC.”

This place was built with nature, CC thought looking around in wonder, not on it.

Entire buildings were overgrown with greenery and teemed with life. Childish laugher sprinkled the atmosphere. CC was amazed. Someone was cooking (or baking? Baking was a thing now) something that smelled amazing. There were animals. People. Most of them didn’t even look twice at him, despite the kids hanging off his back. 

“This is amazing,” Gred whispered, looking around so quickly his chin kept knocking into the back of CC’s head. 

“Looking forward to it?” CC asked.

“Yeah.” Rom began to cry, “I wish my mom could see this.”

Crap.

They wouldn’t be staying long. They had to get back and pick up Bibi Yana-

“Listen, Beautiful, I’m sorry but I can’t stay,” Feemor was saying apologetically into a communicator. CC raised his brows. Beside him, Dara snorted, “We have to get back and pick up padawan-mine.”

_“I don’t understand how you could have just left her on that planet by herself. I’ve met those people. They are savages._ ” The female voice said, _“And the point of the matter is that I just want to see you. How hard is that to understand?”_

“Have you met my padawan?” Feemor demanded. “And yes, I do get it. I want to see you, too. Here, I wasn’t going to tell you this earlier, but she’s ready to be knighted soon, and I was thinking of...”

He wandered off, leaving CC with the bothan boys cuddled against his side and Dara looking bored.

Dara sighed. “Want a beer?”

“No.”

"Listen, just because I wont be here doesn't mean that you wont be safe," CC soothed. The bothan boys Gred and Rom (twins, apparently, which made CC wonder what it would be like to have someone else running around sharing your face. Super weird.) were distraught to learn that they were going to be separated from him. "Did you see that wookie? I'm pretty sure if a seppie even looked at him funny, they'd die instantly."

They frowned, their red rimmed eyes watery and their frowns wobbly. 

"We want you to stay with us," Gred wailed, finally giving in to tears. Rom nodded violently and threw his arms around CC's neck, just as tearful. 

"I know." 

Leaning back out of his crouch and plopping on his butt, CC gathered the little boys in his arms and held them close, blinking rapidly.

"It seems pretty scary right now..." he paused and cleared his throat, "But I have a feeling that you're going to love this place if you give it a chance, and that you're going to make a lot of friends and eventually you'll be happy. And, you know, at our next stop I'm going to buy myself a communicator so the next time Feemor checks in, he can give you my number. That way you can send me messages and I can talk to you."

"But I'm scared," Rom whispered, burrowing into CC's chest. 

"Yeah. Happens to the best of us."

"You promise you'll call?" Gred asked, toying with something he was holding. His head was tucked against CC's neck. The kids fur tickled and sent bumps down his skin. 

"Yes. I might not be able to get back to you right away, and it might even be a couple of days if we're in hyperspace - but I promise."

They were silent, clinging to him and he to them. Eventually, though, the Pearl had to leave.

"It's not forever," CC dropped his forehead to theirs in gentle headbutts, "we'll probably be seeing each other again a lot sooner than we think."

...

The space above his dresser was now covered with several colorful, childish pictures. Some very nice rocks collected from the river near the repurposed jedi temple held places of honor in his sock drawer, where they wouldn't fly all over the room next time the pearl was yanked out of hyperspace.

...

Feemor was teaching him Force strikes to pass the time. 

“Everything is made out of stardust.” He began, “The Force is that unifying power that keeps that stardust together. Everyone and Everything is one with the Force. However, not everyone can feel or use the force the way jedi can (or sith, or whoever). What you probably don't know is that even non-wielders can manipulate the force that is with-in their own bodies. Some people can do it unconsciously - their focus is just that good.”

Feemor was also a heretic. 

“There are points within your body through which the force flows the strongest - pressure points, if you will. Hit one hard enough, you can kill a person. Paralyze them for several hours. Knock them out. Even cut off their access to the force.”

CC had given up trying to stop Feemor from telling him things he probably shouldn’t know. 

“Today, I’m going to teach you how to manipulate your inner force. The first step is confronting your emotions and being honest with yourself. When your head is clear, your spirit is unbound, and the force moves freely with-in. Only then, can you direct your attention to the part of your body you wish imbue with power. The technique on how to apply that power to another is yours.”

“So, clear your head, focus, hit them where it hurts?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

The theory of manipulating the force with in ones self could also be applied to other things - according to Dara, that was. Such as hiding from force users. Or strengthening your body.

“Imagine the environmental tapestry around you,” Dara explained with a shrug, “And then weave yourself in. Simple. Think of your body, then imagine beskar beneath it.”

That wasn’t very helpful, but it was something to think about. 

...

“Have fun being one with nature?” CC asked as Bibi Yana tromped aboard the Pearl. He lifted the lever and the ramp began closing. 

The padawan was plastered in mud and still dripping. Her hair was loose, wild and matted, and looked like there was something living in it. A far cry from the two tight braids it had been in when she'd left.

“I will stab you,” she replied cheerfully, trailing dirt and and leaves. She flicked some mud in his direction, “And you will never see it coming. Where is he?”

CC laughed, swatting the mud away, “Cock pit.”

She vanished in a blur. Seconds later, there was a resounding shout through the ship.

...

“Where to next, Feemor?”

The big jedi swiveled in the pilots chair and stared for a few seconds.

“Well, we received a tip not too long ago about slavers passing through one of the space ports not to far from here,” he said, grinning slowly, “Zygerians. I thought we could go and ask around a little, see if we could gather some information. Get some clues.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Force Strikes based off of chi strikes. Like Zuko's palm strikes - only Feemor and Cody just use the whole fist :)
> 
> How was it?

**Author's Note:**

> I love nice words and constructive criticism.


End file.
